


Sleeping With Ghosts

by Thatmalu



Category: IT (1990), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Characters Meet During the 27 Years (IT), Cheating, Closeted Character, Crossdressing, Crying, Date Rape, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drugged Sex, Drunk Blow Jobs, Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, During the 27 Years (IT), Eddie Kaspbrak Has a Bad Time, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Endgame Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, First Time Blow Jobs, Frottage, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Heavy Angst, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, One Night Stands, Panic Attacks, Parent Death, Public Blow Jobs, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is Bad at Feelings, Richie Tozier is Not Heterosexual, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Shitty Friends, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-23 09:55:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30053679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatmalu/pseuds/Thatmalu
Summary: Part of him wanted Richie to run after him, grab him and apologize, tell Eddie he was just saying all of this out of anger or embarrassment orsomething,literallyanything.Eddie wanted to feel Richie’s arms around him again, he wanted to go back and wait until he brought Richie home and sobered him up before letting him kiss him like that again. Eddie wanted to take Richie home and tell him it was ok, letRichietell him it was ok.Deep down, Eddie knew it wasn’t. That was made clear when Richie didn’t chase after him; furthermore when he never saw him again, leaving Derry for good.**************Eddie getting through the 27 years as best as he can.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Original Male Character(s), Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Stanley Uris
Comments: 21
Kudos: 12





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Our Beginning is a Prologue. There will be anywhere between 4 or 9 chapters, depending on how the chapters flow. The outline isn't changing and the length of the fic won't change, it just might be shorter or longer chapters.
> 
> Please heed the tags; there is a happy ending at the end of this, but it is going to be a heavy one. I'll add more if need be, so far I just skimmed my outline. Fic title from Placebo, both in name and lyrics just resonate the kind of Eddie energy of this and many fics. I don't utilize them enough.
> 
> Please enjoy but also take care of yourselves and step away from sad things when you need to <3

Eddie hated loud noises; why he agreed to crash a party with Richie is beyond him.

The only safe place is the bathroom, which Eddie also hates, because it’s not  _ his _ bathroom, so there’s unknown germs and filth in here and he’s already gagging once the door closes behind him, careful not to touch anything. He can still hear the music blasting just outside the door. The only thing keeping him this calm, oddly enough, was being generally pissed off at his friends. His rage satiated any kind of panic his body was fighting.

“Goo’ f’Mikey,” Richie slurred, spinning on his heel and falling onto his ass atop the porcelain toilet lid. 

“Good for Mike?” Eddie intoned, crossing his arms and tapping his foot as he stared down at Richie, slumped where he sat. “He was supposed to help me babysit you, not stick his tongue down someone's throat.” 

Eddie had to watch  _ both _ of them make out with girls from their high school, and had just dragged Richie in here after catching him with his ex-girlfriend, whom Eddie hated. She was probably very nice, for all Eddie knew, but he didn’t  _ want _ to know. He hated her on principle. He hated that Richie still wanted to touch her,  _ ever _ wanted to touch her. It made Eddie sick to his stomach and the reasons why were almost as debilitating themselves.

“S’agoodthingEds!” Richie exclaimed drunkenly, waving his hand in the air. “He’s —  _ hic _ — he’s not gon’ have us an’more, y’know? Let ‘im make more friends…”

Eddie frowned, looking down at his feet as his heart sank. After next week, Mike would be the only one of their friend group left in Derry. Richie and his family would be going to California this weekend. Eddie’s mother would be taking him to Queens, New York in just two days. It was odd, knowing now that all seven of them would be in separate parts of the world.

“Well, unlike the other assholes,  _ we’re _ not going to leave Mike hanging dry,” Eddie said defiantly. 

“Th’r not  _ assholes, _ Eds. Jus’ moved on. I don’ —  _ hic _ — don’ blame ‘em one bit…”

“Not one damn phone call…” Eddie muttered through gritted teeth. “They could’ve given us that. We won’t abandon Mike like that. Or each other.”

“You’ll forget me.”

Eddie looked up, an eyebrow cocked in Richie’s direction. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked, despite how clearly Richie had spoken.

“I won’ —  _ hic _ — I won’be ‘round to ‘noy you an’more, Edspagheds,” Richie chuckled humorously. 

“You don’t—” Eddie relaxed his arms and tried to take a deep breath. “You don’t…  _ annoy _ me, Richie. I mean, sometimes, but everyone annoys me. I can’t help it. I don’t… I don’t wanna forget about you or Mike or anyone.”

Richie blinked up at him, leaning forward and folding over his legs. He had gotten so  _ long, _ his body competing with the height of local trees. Eddie’s body, on the other hand, betrayed him at five-foot-four and hasn’t grown since the ninth grade. Much to his additional annoyance, sometimes he still liked the feeling of being small. Especially when he was standing by Richie or Mike, who both towered over him. He couldn’t describe the feeling as anything but  _ cozy, _ as odd as it was. 

Eddie also couldn’t help but notice how big  _ everything _ on Richie got. Even now, he stared at Richie’s long fingers twiddling in front of him, letting his sight roam over the long arms, broad shoulders. He loved feeling them wrapped around him in a hug, which was something they haven’t done too often lately. He missed how physical he and Richie used to be, how much he knew Richie still  _ wanted _ to be, maybe, if it weren’t for nasty rumors that spread about them at the school. Without the physical attention at school and the full stop to their sleepovers that Sonia sought to once they reached a certain age, well… Eddie felt himself becoming quite…  _ touch starved.  _ A deep ache to reach out to the other boy resonated in his soul, often needing to be snuffed out late at night by clinging to his pillows or touching himself in the shower.

But they were alone now and Eddie could almost forget about the dozens of other teenage Derry residents that were drinking and partying outside the door behind him. He would be leaving in two days. He doesn’t know when he’ll get a chance again.

As delicately as he could, wishing to avoid an embarrassing stumble or putting any of his limbs in the wrong places, Eddie sauntered over to Richie and slid onto his lap, pushing him back by the shoulders so Eddie could wrap his arms around him properly. Richie reciprocated immediately, long arms slipping around Eddie’s slender waist and squeezing tight as Eddie tucked his chin into Richie’s shoulder. He was so  _ solid, _ so warm. Still very drunk, but suddenly much calmer with Eddie in his arms.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” Eddie told him.

He felt Richie try to pull away and he only budged because Richie’s grip on his waist tickled and made him flinch. Richie didn’t push him off though. He only pulled back enough to look Eddie in the eyes, their noses nearly touching. One of his hands cupped Eddie’s cheek and he felt it blushing under Richie’s palm. 

“Eds,” Richie began; his eyes were a little glazed over, but he looked like he was fighting to concentrate on something as he spoke with a much steadier voice. “Can I… do you mind if I take something before you go?”

“Uh, sure. What do y— _ hmph!” _ Eddie let out a muffled yelp, unable to pull away as Richie’s hand cupped the back of his head and pressed their faces together. 

It was rough. It felt desperate. Eddie’s body started to fight back on instinct. He had never kissed anyone before and Richie tasted like stale beer and his gross fucking cigarettes. On the occasions Eddie had shamefully thought about this moment, it was nothing like this. In his mind, it had been soft and sweet, nowhere near a dirty bathroom, not remotely close to them sitting on a toilet. It didn’t involve Richie’s teeth clumsily bumping into Eddie’s or feeling his tongue try to reach into the back of his throat like he was trying to play hockey with his tonsils.

Yet once his mind finally caught up to him, Eddie kissed Richie right back with just as much graceless vigor.

His fingers got caught in the uncombed tangles of Richie’s curls. He bumped his leg into the side of the tub beside them trying to shift in Richie’s lap. He scrunched his face at the taste of Richie’s tongue and how big and slippery Richie’s mouth felt on his own. It was sloppy and too wet and completely uncoordinated. But Eddie just wanted more and more of it, pressing himself as close to Richie as possible, as if he could rip open Richie’s rib cage and force himself inside.

This was so dirty and unclean and  _ disgusting. _

Richie let out a low moan, pulling Eddie off by the hair on his head. “I wanna taste your cock.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie panted, clutching Richie’s chest. “You’re drunk. And horny from feeling up Sally Mueller’s tits a half hour ago.”

“That doesn’t negate what I just said,” Richie growled, standing up with Eddie still in his grip. Eddie squealed and grabbed onto Richie’s shoulders as he pressed Eddie’s backside onto the sink behind him. He looked much more sober now, his eyes hungry.

Eddie didn’t like the way his feet were dangling off the ground, so he let himself drop as Richie knelt down in front of him. He gripped the edge of the sink to steady himself, hoping to god his legs wouldn’t give out.

“You can’t — you can’t be serious about this.”

“Like a heart attack,” Richie grinned, undoing Eddie’s jeans.

Jesus Christ. This is happening. This is actually fucking happening. Had someone fucking drugged him? Was this some sort of fever dream? Surely, this was a joke, if not anything else. One of Richie’s crueler ones. He had gotten better at hurting Eddie in his teasing over the years, often making Eddie the expense of a joke to save his own skin. Any moment, Richie was going to laugh in his face for letting Richie do this.

Eddie gulped audibly as his heavy denim hit the ground at his ankles.

Richie’s large hands slid up Eddie’s thighs, right under the hems of his gray briefs, until the tips of his fingers were pressed into Eddie’s hips. He rubbed his hands up and down, his palms covering nearly the surface of Eddie’s legs. They were warm on Eddie’s skin, but the touch sent a shiver up Eddie’s spine. It somehow made him both relaxed and nervous all at once, his muscles tensing as his insides turned into a puddle. As Richie’s thumbs grazed the insides of Eddie’s thighs, he sank down into the touch, leaning his head back as he closed his eyes.

“Rich,” Eddie breathed. Richie’s fingertips found their way to the waistband hugging Eddie’s hips, the only piece of clothing between Richie’s face and Eddie’s dick.

Eddie was really going to just let this happen.

“Can I take these off?” Richie asked.

“Wait.” Eddie fidgeted, reaching a hand down into Richie’s messy hair. He looked down and was still in awe at how serious Richie looked. “I don’t… I don’t want you to make fun of me. Promise me that you won’t, ok?”

“Why would I make fun of you?” Richie asked seriously.

_ Because sometimes you’re so mean it breaks my heart.  _ “Because I — I’m not — Because I’m  _ small,” _ Eddie muttered as his cheeks blushed furiously.

“I figured.”

“Fuck you, asshole.”

“Eddie, everything about you is small; it’s not a slight, it’s just a fact.”

Eddie relaxed a little bit, noticing that Richie’s expression had not changed; it was neither mocking nor cruel. “Ok, just… don’t make fun of it. I know the kind of shit people write on bathroom walls. Or my locker…”

“I don’t care that you have a small dick,” Richie told him bluntly.

Eddie whined, though he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t sure why  _ any _ of this was happening, why he was letting this happen, why he was letting this happen in a strangers  _ bathroom. _

“Just please don’t be mean,” Eddie asked again in the quietest voice.

Richie hummed against Eddie’s skin as he leaned forward to kiss Eddie’s hip bone, gently sliding the underwear down until he let it drop to Eddie’s ankles. Eddie should’ve been more embarrassed, should’ve been more reluctant to have his dick right next to Richie’s face like this, but he wasn’t. He should not have been getting turned on by this, but he was. His dick stuck out in an unmistakable erection and Eddie could feel it graze Richie’s cheek while he kept kissing around Eddie’s skin.

Thank Maturin he showered before this.

One of Richie’s hands rested on the upper part of Eddie’s thigh, his blue eyes staring right back up at Eddie as he lolled out his tongue and sucked the tip of Eddie into his mouth. It was electric, like a current up Eddie’s spine, and he let out a squeak and fisted his fingers into Richie’s hair. Richie almost smiled at the feeling, but went back to closing his mouth around Eddie’s cock, his tongue flat against the bottom as he bobbed up and down in short, quick movements. There wasn’t much to take in anyway, so Richie was easily able to wet Eddie up and down, the tip of his nose gently pressing against Eddie’s abdomen with each bob. Eddie could only make tiny  _ ah’s _ and whimpers, knowing this wasn’t going to last long. 

Eddie’s hand tried desperately to cling to the smooth surface of the sink’s edge that his back was digging into, the other holding onto Richie’s head for dear life. His heart was pounding in his chest, doing little somersaults while he gazed down in realization at what he was fucking doing, what he was letting  _ Richie _ do to him. This was  _ filthy _ and wrong and oh just so fucking  _ good. _

Nothing that  _ felt _ this good could be good.

With an audible, wet pop, Richie pulled off of Eddie’s cock, using his hand to start jerking it off with slick little sounds. As he opened his mouth, lips still glistening heavily with spit, Eddie braced himself for something cruel to come out at his expense. He wasn’t expecting what Richie actually said.

“I love your pretty little cock,” Richie purred, squeezing his other hand around Eddie’s waist and making him squirm. “I love you so much.”

Eddie couldn’t process this,  _ any _ of this, too consumed by the static building between his ears and the heat growing and pulling at his belly. His mouth was moving, words were coming out, his breathing heavy, but all his brain was focused on was the sight of Richie sticking his tongue out to catch Eddie’s cum between his lips, watching some of it spill down his chin as Eddie’s hips stuttered in orgasm.

He had never had anyone around before,  _ obviously, _ when this would happen, so the realization that he just made all those noises and movements and  _ fluids _ in front of Richie was hitting him like a wrecking ball. Richie was just grinning, wiping his chin and licking whatever leftover cum was still clinging to his finger.

“S’not bad,” Richie giggled. 

“That’s  _ disgusting,” _ Eddie grimaced, looking down in disgust as he thought about what that could possibly taste like. Richie’s smile faded immediately, looking devastated. Eddie was just about to open his mouth, tell Richie that  _ he _ wasn’t disgusting, that this was fine and he wanted to do it again if Richie would allow it to happen, but a loud bang on the bathroom door made them both jump.

“Yo, get the fuck out! You got other people that need to piss.”

“Oh my god,” Eddie gasped, quickly pulling his underwear back up. “Oh my god, people are going to know -- they’re gonna see us leaving together — oh  _ god _ — where’s — my — inhaler—”

Richie was quick to pull it out from the pocket of Eddie’s jeans before helping him pull them up. “Open the door.”

“Rich—”

“Trust me, they won’t think anything. Hold on.”

Eddie’s throat was tightening up, even as he gulped in the acidic taste from his tiny vice. However, Richie knelt back down to lift the toilet lid up, sticking his finger into his mouth to make himself gag. Getting the idea — the distraction, the  _ ruse  _ — Eddie felt more confident as he opened the door in time for Richie to vomit in front of their unwelcome visitor.

“Oh, fucking  _ gross!” _ Greta exclaimed, taking a step back from the door. “Sally, your fucking boyfriend just vommed.”

It worked like a charm and Eddie breathed a bit easier, grateful for Richie’s small sacrifice, losing his taco dinner and vodka in the toilet. No one said anything about them being alone together. After Eddie made him wash his mouth out in the sink, Richie flashed a sick grin over at Sally and Greta as he dragged his feet out of the bathroom, both of them giving the finger in return.

Getting home was going to be much more difficult with both of his friends drunk. Eddie knew he’d have to drop them both off, park Richie’s car at his house and then  _ walk _ home alone. There was no way for him to sneak Richie into his room. It was difficult enough for him to sneak back in by himself without Sonia noticing. Once Mike was secure at his farm, Eddie drove the Daewoo back to the Tozier’s in near silence. An odd thing for a car with Richie in it.

“Do you need to stop at the convenient store first?” Eddie asked, feeling uneasy in the quiet car with Richie just staring out the window. “Get some aspirin or chug a bottle of water before I drop you off?”

Richie didn’t answer right away, nor did he answer Eddie’s question at all. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Eddie asked, although his stomach tightened in anticipation.

It takes a few moments for Richie to answer again, opening and closing his mouth as he thinks of what to say. “Should’ve just fucked Sally. Now I gotta start all over again.”

Eddie felt his breath hitch and his heart start palpitating again. “What do you mean  _ start all over?” _

“In California,” Richie shrugged. “It’s gonna take forever to fuck someone now. At least with Sally I had some experience points already. Now I gotta meet new people and start from scratch. Gonna be a bummer.”

“Wow,” Eddie said tightly, his mouth going dry. “Wow, Rich. You sure are fucking something.”

“Maybe she was too drunk to remember me vomiting. I could still cram in a romp in a few days, dontcha think? If I play some crocodile tears about leaving, it would be a nice send off.”

“I don’t fucking care. Do what you want. You won’t have me nagging you after you leave.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Richie sighed, shifting his legs around in the cramped space. “Shit, maybe I should’ve made you go down on me instead.”

“What the  _ fuck.” _ Eddie slammed on the breaks in the middle of the street. This didn’t have quite the dramatic effect he had hoped for, his new, boiling rage unsatisfied by the dull stop. “Why — why would you say that?”

“Could’ve gotten off at least,” Richie mumbled, shrugging again as he yanked the tightened seatbelt from his chest. “Might not have been a waste of my night.”

“What makes you think I would’ve fucking done that?”

“You’re the queer one, not me. I very much liked touching Sally’s tits.”

Eddie felt his chest turn ice cold, his jaw dropping as his eyes stung at Richie’s words. “I don’t — why — why the fuck would you say that? You just sucked my fucking dick, you asshole.”

“I was doing you a service,” Richie deadpanned, still not looking at him. “Call it a going away present. Besides, there’s hardly anything there to call a dick, anyway.”

“A fucking  _ service?” _ Eddie croaked, the lump in his throat getting too difficult to manage. “I didn’t — I didn’t  _ ask _ you to do that, I don’t — You are such a fucking piece of shit, Richie.”

“Yeah,” Richie said simply.

“You know what, you can fucking walk home.”

“It’s my fucking car.”

“Fine.” Eddie turned the car off, struggling to get out of his seatbelt and burst open the door.

“Hey,” Richie called, finally turning to Eddie as he got out of his seat.

Eddie turned towards the trees along the side of the road and threw the keys as hard and far as he could muster.

“Hey!” Richie shouted, his voice rising. “You dick!”

“Fuck you!” Eddie screamed, feeling the tears fall down his cheeks. He kicked the door shut, denting it with his heel before he started to walk towards his house.

He could hear Richie getting out of the car and he held his breath to stop himself from sobbing, not wanting Richie to hear what a baby he was. 

“Eds!”

“Fuck you, Richie!” Eddie shouted, not turning to look back. “In fact, go fuck yourself since you wanna get your dick wet so bad!”

“Eddie, come fucking back here!”

“Drive drunk into a fucking tree, you prick!”

Part of him wanted Richie to run after him, grab him and apologize, tell Eddie he was just saying all of this out of anger or embarrassment or  _ something, _ literally  _ anything. _ Eddie wanted to feel Richie’s arms around him again, he wanted to go back and wait until he brought Richie home and sobered him up before letting him kiss him like that again. Eddie wanted to take Richie home and tell him it was ok, let  _ Richie _ tell him it was ok.

Deep down, Eddie knew it wasn’t. That was made clear when Richie didn’t chase after him; furthermore when he never saw him again, leaving Derry for good. 

It was wrong to have let that happen. Yes, Richie was an asshole. But Eddie had been the sober one, and he let Richie do such a thing to him out of his sad, pathetic desire to be touched. Richie may have done the deed, but Eddie felt like he violated Richie by not stopping him, violated _ himself, _ let Richie violate him with his intentions. He should’ve stopped him. Richie wasn’t in the right state of mind, and Eddie had been right to say he was just horny from his time with Sally. If no one had knocked on the door, Richie probably would’ve finished himself off and moved on, happy to have just gotten the job done.

Maybe Eddie was better off. Neither of them were good people anymore. They’re much too jaded.

Too embarrassed to see Mike, Eddie wrote an apology letter to him, mailing it out just before he and his mother left. He asked her if they could leave early enough in the morning that he knew they’d avoid seeing anyone. Sonia didn’t mind. The sooner they got to her sisters, the better. 

They’d be sharing the place with Silvia after her husband passed away. The two widows thought to spend their lives with each other, rather than stew in their loneliness. 

Eddie’s new bedroom was much smaller than it had been before, but he couldn’t remember. All he realized was that he had too many things and wondered why this was and how it had fit in the place he had come from — wherever that place was. If he thought about it too hard, his heart ached and he felt sick. So he figured it shouldn’t matter if it only caused him such pain. 

Seeing the city in the distance sent an excited little thrill through Eddie. He knew his mother wouldn’t let him go except for classes, and she’d keep him on a tight leash to make sure his schedule was memorized so he could promptly return home. After all, the new city was too big and too dangerous for her delicate son. Queens was much more manageable, their small neighborhood of brick townhouses easier to navigate. This one, in particular, was quite safe. Sonia made sure of that when her and Silvia purchased the house.

So Eddie tried not to let himself worry. As long as he did as he was told and listened to his mother, he would be safe. She knew what was best for him. If he followed the path she led for him, he wouldn’t get lost. He wouldn’t get hurt.

“What’s wrong Eddie-bear?” she asked him their first night, standing in the doorway of his bedroom and looking at him apprehensively.

“I dunno,” Eddie mumbled into his pillow. “I just feel… sad. Like I miss someone.”

Sonia blinked at him before smiling knowingly. “That’s just because we don’t know anyone here yet, Eddie. You’ll make friends soon enough. I’m sure some very bright kids go to that school. Silvia’s church has a youth group, too.”

“Yeah, I know…”

“This’ll be good for us, Eddie,” Sonia told him. “You’ll see. I love you.”

“I love you too, mommy.”

She left the door open just a crack, as she always had. Eddie sighed and rolled over onto his back, blinking up at the darkness. He’s sure his mother was right. This would feel like home, soon enough. Plus, it was a fresh start. He was going to build a life here. A good life. Right near a city that never sleeps, with all the possibilities in the world, Eddie could surely find himself; whatever the hell that meant, anyway.

He just wished he knew why he went to bed crying.


	2. Drag - 1997

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie rides on a high that encourages him to experience new things; not all of them pleasant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. Hey, you. See those tags? They're gonna be really prevalent going forward. I also added the Archive Warning for the big R/NC, even if it was already listed in the tags. Heed it. I also added a few other tags and will continue to do so as I flesh out my outline. But don't hesitate to tell me I forgot any.
> 
> I love Placebo so fucking much and just resonate with their lyrics for sad, pill-popping, gay 90s Eddie that I don't know why I've hardly used their shit for fics. So each chapter will be a song that I feel has a good feeling for the chapters. Although, honestly, all their songs are good for most Eddie fics.
> 
> cw/tw;://**contains spoilers**//manic episode, racing thoughts, hyperactivity and impulsive decisions, benzo/pill addiction, heavy drinking, coerced, rough oral sex (read: assault. eddie agreeing does not stop him from being a victim), vomiting, two characters discussing gender of an androgynous person, confusion about gender and sexual attraction, cocaine use, taking drugs like candy from a stranger, unsolicited kiss, semi-public and intoxicated frottage/handjobs in a park, depression crash and spiraling loneliness****//

Eddie normally hated loud noises; yet he found himself sitting at a bar in a club, way too many subway stops from his home.

On any other Saturday, on  _ any _ other day of the week, Eddie would be at home studying or sitting in the living room with his mother while she ranted about the political climate or  _ hooligans _ in their otherwise quiet Queens neighborhood. As much as Eddie ached for company, he didn’t mind the quiet, preferring a nice book to an evening out at an event. So tonight was an extraordinary circumstance for him.

He knew why he was here. This extraordinary circumstance was the byproduct of an energy that had been building for days, maybe even weeks. A strong sense of purpose and meaning that got his thoughts racing and his body vibrating. He spent too many nights not sleeping, cramming for his last year of college, chugging energy drinks and coffee, despite his body being unable to relax. Even now his legs bounced in his chair as he played with the condensation of his glass, gazing down at the melting ice cubes in his drink. His brain couldn’t stop thinking, thinking,  _ thinking, _ and it was sending him into hysterics every day and night, just trying to get through his final year of school and otherwise having many other distractions. 

He had been riding a strange high he couldn’t satiate, no matter how much he tried exhausting himself.

The medicine his psychiatrist prescribed helped, definitely, but only for so long. Eddie found himself needing to ask several different doctors, claiming he didn’t have insurance, getting the pills from various pharmacies so he could have a supply that catered to his needs. They just couldn’t give him anything strong enough to mute his unnerving thoughts, calm him down in times of stress when there was no other option for him other than to pop a pill and move on. He was too  _ busy _ for a therapist, and his mother would flip if she found out he went and got himself a  _ shrink. _

Freud would probably have an awful lot to say about the relationship between them.

Still, his mother  _ definitely _ wouldn’t approve of where Eddie was now; a gay club.

There was something Eddie needed to get out of his system. He wasn’t going to deceive himself and try and live a  _ gay life, _ there was no way he would survive. But he also was starting to piece together why he had no interest in dating, why he never so much as got past kissing a girl, why every feature he watched had him staring at the male lead and not the breasts sharing the screen.

Eddie wasn’t sure what he wanted from being here, but the bass of the music resonated in his body, bouncing through his rib cage and beating against his heart, finally giving it a run for its money. He didn’t have to focus on how high his pulse was when the music shook his very bones. The songs and his erratic emotions soon became one. The loudness deafened his mind, giving him something stronger to concentrate on.

The drink was helping. He would need another one soon.

“Watcha drinkin’, handsome?”

Eddie looked up at the stranger beside him, smiling lazily. “Anything sweet.”

The man — whose name sounded like Greg or Craig or Dave or something Eddie couldn’t hear over the woofer — got Eddie a Pruneaux, something with gin and prune juice. Eddie quite liked it.

He quite liked this guy, too — whatever his name was. Eddie called him a different name each time, but he didn’t seem to mind. He wasn’t very interesting, but he kept all the conversation geared to himself, leaving Eddie little room to reveal his own personal information. He just smiled and sipped his fruity little drink through his tiny little straw. He liked the attention. Normally, he’d enjoy blending into the wall and hiding from all eyes, but something had started growing inside of him, craving to be noticed.

“Can I get your number?” Eddie asked, shaking his head a little as his ears rang from the quieter hallways away from the dance room.

“I got a better idea,” the stranger grinned. “Why don’t you let me see if you’re worth my number?”

He leaned forward, pushing his body completely flush against Eddie and pressing him into the wall. He was average size, but compared to Eddie, he was towering.

“No, I… I gotta get home,” Eddie muttered, trying to slide out of the man’s weight to no avail. “Maybe we can hook up later?”

“Aw, c’mon baby, don’t tell me I’ve been wasting my time and money on a fucking tease.”

It had been too long since Eddie had his medicine. The alcohol wasn’t enough to stop his racing heartbeat now, the music too far to drown his racing thoughts, his limbs shaking under him as his hand fumbled for his pocket. “Just… give me… a minute, please…”

He managed to slide to the side enough to step out of the man’s towering gaze, pulling his pill bottle out with a trembling hand. Just one pill. Just take one and go home.

“What’s this?” the man laughed, grabbing it from Eddie and holding it close to his face.

“Stop!” Eddie exclaimed, reaching forward only for the stranger to hold the pill bottle high over his head. “Please, I need those!”

“Yeah?” the man grinned. “What’ll you do for them back?”

“Anything!” Eddie said immediately. His heart sank at his own words, his desperation to get his medicine back stronger than his self-preservation. “Please, I’ll do whatever you want!”

The stranger kept a grip on the back of Eddie’s neck, as if expecting him to run away as he dragged him into the filthy restroom. There were two stalls, both with broken locks, but Eddie’s sure the walls were high enough from the ground for someone to see two pairs of legs and leave them be. He can taste the alcohol burning the back of his throat as his stomach churned from all the smells and the realization of what was probably going to happen.

Not a second after the door snapped shut, a hand was on top of Eddie’s head, shoving him to his knees. His first instinct was to flail and grab for something, his hand gripping the toilet beside him and sending a squirmy unpleasantness crawling all over his skin. He wasn’t sure if he would feel any better touching the man in front of him to steady himself, so he left it there, his fingers twitching on the filth they rested in.

There was no way he was going to be able to fight this; he might as well let it happen so he could get his shit back. Even if his entire body was sweating and his head started to spin and bile threatened to spill out from his stomach.

He hadn’t seen another dick before, not unless he counted porn. A small part of Eddie hoped it meant something when he felt disgusted at the sight of it, red and veiny in his face, as if maybe the wires in his brain had just been crossed over wrong and no, he wasn’t gay, just very confused. Regardless, it didn’t matter in the context. He was doing this either way. The man wasted no time by plugging Eddie’s nose to force his mouth open for a gasp of air that was immediately interrupted by the cock shoved into him.

He wasn’t sure if he wished the man would just  _ let _ him blow him, force him to do this dirty work on his own, but he certainly wasn’t a fan of the quick thrusts of the man’s dick into his throat, the revolting grunts he made from above, the pain in the back of his head as the man slammed it into the tile behind him. He kept gagging and sputtering his own spit all over himself, eventually unable to hear anything but his own gurgling and whimpering pleas dying in his throat. He was sure he broke a nail from his tight grip on the toilet trying to brace himself.

Eventually, his body stopped fighting back and he just went limp. He could almost,  _ almost _ dissociate as the man fucked his mouth and grinded his head into the wall. The only air he was able to get was in quick bursts between the man’s thrusts, still holding Eddie’s nostrils closed to make sure his mouth stayed open, so he would think twice about biting down or something. Perhaps it was for this reason he started to get light-headed and slack, his arms both falling to his sides like deadweight. 

Without any warning, a sour taste coated the back of Eddie’s tongue and his throat burned with vomit from the unwelcome flavor. The man removed his dick with a wet, nauseating sound and a bit of vomit followed suit, spilling down Eddie’s chin and front. He coughed it up, spitting some out onto the floor to get the chunks off of his tongue, which only made him want to throw up more. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” the man laughed. “You should get that shit sorted out.”

Eddie just sat there panting, pulling away when the man ruffled his hair and tossed Eddie’s pills back to him. Eddie shamefully wiped his chin and took three from the bottle, letting them swallow down with the excessive spit and cum built up in his mouth.

He had to clean himself up before heading home, even if he was going to take the longest shower of his life. He rinsed his mouth at the sink, only to gag a little more vomit down the drain from his sensitive throat. Unsure if he lost any of his medicine in the process, he took one more, hoping it would stay down. As he did so, he made the mistake of looking at himself in the mirror.

His cheeks were flushed and hair a mess, but nothing compared to the chagrin swept across his face. All those years feeling dirty for having these thoughts came to bite him in the ass for trying to normalize them. This is just what he fucking gets, isn’t it? There was a damn good reason his mother warned him about these  _ faggots, _ these  _ AIDS spreaders. _ He should’ve listened to his mommy.

All of his nerves were still on fire, his pupils blown out, every muscle in his body trembling. Eddie jumped as someone entered the bathroom, his skin reddening further at the intrusion. Another man around Eddie’s age froze and narrowed his eyes at where Eddie was standing. 

“Are you ok?”

“No,” Eddie said bluntly, his voice raspy. 

To his surprise, this new stranger walked over to the towel dispenser, ripping a few pieces off and wetting them a bit in the sink. Carefully, he took Eddie’s chin and started dabbing the wet towel at Eddie’s eyes. Besides being tearful, Eddie is sure that they’re filled with sleep crust from his lack of taking care of himself lately. It’s a sweet gesture to juxtapose the events that just took place moments ago.

“I’m going home now,” Eddie said a bit defensively, as if the man even asked. He just didn’t want to give off the wrong idea. Not again.

“Yeah, you should clean up,” the stranger nodded. “I’m about to leave myself. I can walk you if you want.”

“I’m in Queens.”

“I just moved from Queens,” the other man smiled. “What neighborhood?”

“I’d rather not tell a stranger.”

The man laughed, quite genuinely. His face was very kind, crinkling up around his green eyes as he smiled. His hair was dark like Eddie’s, though much curlier. “That’s fair enough. I can walk you to the subway, at least.”

“Sure,” Eddie sighed. At this point, whatever.

The air outside did relax Eddie a bit. It’s still warm but there’s a chill in the air with the impending autumn. His new companion lit a cigarette when they got outside and Eddie can’t stop himself from grimacing.

“Sorry,” the stranger says apologetically. “Bad habits when I’m stressed. Or drunk. Or both.”

“Why are you stressed?” Eddie can’t stop himself from asking.

The stranger nods, furrowing his brow as he takes a drag. “My first time at a gay bar. Was quite the experience. Men are pigs.”

“That they fucking are,” Eddie agreed tightly. 

“You date a lot of them?”

“Not a damn one.”

“Hmm,” the man hummed, blowing out some smoke. “Me neither. I’m hoping I’m just very confused or still working through my teenage rebellion. My dad is a mega dickhead, so I suppose I’ll be rebelling until he dies.”

“Can’t relate. My dad is dead.”

“The two extremes of daddy issues. No wonder we’re such fun targets. What’s your name?”

“Tell me yours first.”

“Nah,” the stranger grinned. 

“Well, that’s not very fucking fair.”

“Can you give me a fake one so I have something to call you?”

“Uh. Ian,” Eddie said. “Call me Ian.”

“Nice to meet you, Ian. You can call me Sam.”

After thanking  _ Sam _ for the walk, Eddie rode from Canal St. and quietly snuck into his bedroom adjacent from his mother’s. Since his aunt had passed away, it was quite easy for Eddie to sneak in through the now empty bedroom window downstairs, given that Sonia never checked that room anymore; Eddie just left everything unlocked. He scrubbed himself raw in the hot steam of a fresh shower, ready to call his doctor first thing Monday morning.

He would just tell them he cut himself in a public space and got nervous about HIV. His past hysterics would keep them unsurprised if he demanded blood tests be done over something like this. He’d never have to mention the dirty bathroom blowjob that made him want to throw up again. Sometimes it was hard to sleep when he thought about it, as if it weren’t already too hard to sleep. His days were plagued by the memory of it. 

Eddie asked for an increase in his anxiety medicine; from  _ all _ of his doctors. It helped when he took it with a shot of whiskey he kept under the bed.

Eddie ended up really liking Sam. Before departing, they had agreed to meet again the following Saturday. Eddie was very surprised to see him again, fulfilling his promise. And he kept his promises again and again, week after week. The two of them drank pink drinks and talked about school and visited different queer areas of lower Manhattan. They never revealed where they lived, where they went to school, what their real names were. It was a fun little secret they shared with each other while they figured out this whole  _ gay thing.  _ All while Eddie rode this wild wave of high emotions that had been overtaking him for the last few weeks and trying  _ not _ to think about what had happened to him the first night out.

Halloween landed on a Friday this year, so they agreed to make an exception to their Saturday plans. Neither of them chose a creative costume. Eddie  _ almost _ complemented Sam until he admitted he wore the same costume every year since starting college. 

“Sam,” Eddie slurred, spilling whiskey sour over his hand as he knocked it into Sam’s shoulder. “Why are you so lazy?”

“I’m not lazy, I’m  _ poor, _ Ian,” Sam laughed, helping Eddie clean up his mess. “Or should I say,  _ Chad?” _

“This is creative,” Eddie grinned, tapping the  _ Hello, My Name is Chad _ sticker on his shirt. That was the only effort he made. “Besides, you don’t have my real name anyway.”

Sam shook his head as he rolled his eyes, turning as he took a sip of his drink. His eyes went wide when he spotted something. “Hey, talk about going all out.”

Eddie turned to follow Sam’s gaze and froze in awe. A short distance from them was a very attractive person in some sort of lingerie, whose figure and face was so androgynous with all the make-up and costume, Eddie genuinely felt confused. “Is that a guy or a girl?”

“Dunno. Probably a guy. That’s a Frank-N-Furter costume I think.”

“She’s probably just really tall. I’ve seen models like that, all long and skinny.”

“Why don’t you ask?”

“Fuck you; you ask.”

“I  _ dare _ you to ask. As a matter of fact, I dare you to stop being a pussy and ask someone out. Ask  _ him _ out.”

“You’re one to talk,” Eddie bit back.

Sam only smirked as Eddie threw his drink back and made his way towards this person he found oddly sexy. If he really  _ was _ gay, surely he wouldn’t enjoy  _ this _ look on another body. He was thankful for how much liquor and pills he took, because it was easy enough for him to just say—

“Hi.”

Frank-N-Furter looked down from the bartender and grinned down at Eddie. “Well, hello gorgeous.”

_ Still can’t tell, _ Eddie thought to himself, frowning. “You’re — you’re very pretty.”

Frank threw their head back laughing, placing a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “Thanks, doll. Care for a bump?” 

“Uh, ok?” Eddie replied, immediately thrown off by this stranger dragging him into the bathroom, all attention off the drink they were waiting to order. Eddie felt his stomach tighten and flip in his gut, remembering the last time something like this happened. He trusted himself to run away if need be this time.

The bathroom felt a lot cleaner than Eddie anticipated. It was empty and bright, and Eddie noticed the stubble on Frank’s face in the new light of the bathroom, even caked under the heavy make-up.

“Sorry,” Eddie told him. “I thought — I probably shouldn’t have called you pretty.”

“Aw, why not?” Frank giggled, his deeper voice more apparent in here. He pulled out a small pouch from his purse. “I got all prettied up so I could get compliments.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer handsome?”

“I just want people to notice,” Frank shrugged, checking his lipstick in the mirror before putting his attention back to his drugs. “Although please refer to me as he or him; it’s best to ask when you don’t know. Here, do a line with me.”

“That shit is awfully expensive to be sharing with strangers in a club.”

“I like meeting people in odd places. Besides, this shit is cheap. Probably gonna taste cheap.”

_ “Taste? _ Don’t you snort it?”

“You’ll see.”

Eddie already had enough drugs in his system not to give a shit, but felt a dull kind of queasiness in his belly as he leaned down to snort the powder on the metal rim of the sink, probably sniffing in all the germs in with it. He expected the harsh burn in his nostrils, but was surprised by the heavy numbness in the back of his throat, quickly spreading to his tongue. He smacked his lips as he grimaced at the taste, like he just took a mouthful of gasoline. This quickly became a secondary concern when his legs started shaking, bouncing on the balls of his feet as this new stranger snorted a line in front of him.

“Fuck, that’s cheap shit,” Frank coughed, wiping the underside of his nose. He checked himself in the mirror again, tugging at his shaggy hair as he rubbed his index finger with the cocaine into his gums.

“Why’d you dress like that?” Eddie blurted out. 

“Makes my legs look sexy.”

“Do guys like that? Other gay guys?”

“I’m not gay.”

“Fuck if you aren’t,” Eddie huffed. “Look at how you’re dressed.”

“That’s awfully judgemental. You gay?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” he laughed.

“I thought maybe I was. Why do I like you looking like this?” Eddie asked seriously, leaning in as if he were interrogating this man.

“Because I’m fucking hot,” the man laughed. “Fuck if I know? My girlfriend likes it, too.”

“You have a girlfriend?”

“Sure do.”

“Why are you in a gay club?”

“So dudes won’t hit on her and we can have a threesome.”

“With a guy or girl?”

“Why, you offering?”

Eddie thought about it — even if his inexperience wasn’t bad enough, the thought of being intimate with a woman in the mix nearly made him shudder. “Only if I can have you to myself.”

“Fat chance, but I like the confidence,” Frank winked. “You are cute, though. Damn shame we’d be missing out.”

“You think I’m cute?”

“I just said you were.”

“You like girls,” Eddie frowned. “Do you like me ‘cause I remind you of a girl.”

“Yes and no. I very much like everything. Though I’d kill to see that tight little body in a dress or lingerie,” he laughed.

“You’d like me dressed like you?”

“Yeah, but not because it makes you look like a girl. I’m not any less of a man for dressing like this.”

Somehow, after all their bantering and after Eddie paced away much of his energy, he found himself with his ass on the sink and this stranger putting make-up on his face. Eddie asked him to be subtle, but he felt his eyelids getting heavy with how much he was getting painted on.

“God, you’ve got amazing eyes,” Frank-N-Furter groaned. “Like, goddamn, full offense, but I would fight god to get those Bambi eyes staring at me from between my legs.”

“Oh — okay,” Eddie gulped. He’s never known anyone so openly sexual before, let alone someone who had no  _ preference _ to what turned him on.

“Relax, I’ll keep my hands off. I’m just in awe that someone hasn’t snatched you up yet.”

“Well, I… I am here with someone, kind of. We’ve just been scoping around clubs together, but I… I really wanna hook up with him.”

“Just hook up?”

“I don’t know if I like him that much yet,” Eddie confessed, staring up at the ceiling as this stranger finished up his eyeliner. “He’s cute and he’s sweet, but I can’t afford a relationship right now. Not with another guy.”

“You never know how you meet people. I got with my girlfriend so people wouldn’t think I was gay. She was my beard.”

“How’s that working out, Fishnets?”

“Having a girlfriend helps me get away with a lot of shit like this. Makes me look  _ comfortable _ in my sexuality. Other girls think it’s  _ cute.” _

“Are you?”

“I’d prefer ruggedly handsome.”

“No, I mean — are you comfortable in your sexuality?”

“Nope,” Frank chuckled heartily. “Half the reason I have make-up on my face and I’m fifty blocks from my apartment is so nobody I know will see me. I just moved here last year for the same reason. But now I love my girlfriend and if another guy is thrown in the mess with us, I can just say it’s for her.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Tell ya what; I’ll give you more drugs if you promise you’ll make a move on your buddy tonight.”

“Really?” Eddie asked. The second he perked up, the other man laughed again.

“God, you’re cute. Here.” He gently took Eddie by the chin and turned his head towards the mirror. Eddie was a bit flabbergasted at how much his eyes popped, even more than usual, and how…  _ nice _ he looked like this. His cheeks glittered.

“Thuh-thank you,” he stammered.

“You’re very welcome.” 

He pulled out something from his clutch and Eddie saw colorful little pills with odd symbols and faces on them. Frank-N-Furter made a show of holding a pink one up between his index finger and thumb and delicately placing it on the tip of his tongue. He reached forward and pulled Eddie into a kiss by the neck, tonguing the little pill right into his mouth. Eddie tried to reciprocate the kiss, but it was over just like that.

“Sorry, love. No hooking up unless I’m bringing you home with the missus; that’s our deal.”

“Suh-sorry,” Eddie muttered.

“Ready to  _ roll?” _ he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah. Are you gonna leave?”

“Probably,” he shrugged. “Once my girlfriend says it's time to go.”

“Can I see you again? Just in case you ever dump the girl.”

“Bold,” the man grinned. “I do shows if you wanna come some time.”

“Shows where I get to see you dressed like this?”

The man only laughed in response, pulling something else out of his bag and handing it to Eddie. A ticket.

“This isn’t the kind of show I expected.”

“Didn’t think it was.”

“Why do you just…  _ have _ these?”

“I told you I liked meeting people. I am also an attention whore that steals tickets from my employer to drum in business. Sue me.”

Eddie’s stomach knotted up when they went back out, the high of the cocaine wearing off. He hoped that whatever pill the kind stranger gave him would kick in, feeling his body begin to get fatigued.

“Hey,” the stranger cupped his shoulder. “This guy you’re hanging out with isn’t a creep, right? I don’t have to throw hands with anyone?”

“What? No,” Eddie laughed. 

“Ok good,” the man grinned back. A pretty girl in a gold jacket and striped shorts popped up at his side, grabbing his arm and looking up at him. 

“Hey, sexy! Tinkerbell wants to go home with us!”

“No shit!” Frank-N-Furter gasped, looking over her head and out towards the club. “Huge-rack Tinkerbell? Fuck, she’s hot.”

“Yeah, so let’s  _ hurry _ before she realizes we’re both out of her league,” the girl giggled, dragging him back with her.

“Have fun!” Eddie said awkwardly, waving his hand like a little weirdo.

“You too!” Frank-N-Furter shouted back absently, his attention immediately zoned elsewhere.

Eddie wasn’t sure why, but he stood there watching them leave, as if clinging onto the hope that Frank-N-Furter would stick around. For some reason, it stung to see him grin and sling both arms around the two girls, heading out of the club. It was worth it to see him turn back to flash Eddie a bright smile one last time.

“Holy shit,” Sam gasped when Eddie found him at the bar. “You’re… uh… what the hell happened?”

“Do you like me?” Eddie asked, not bothering to sit down.

“Wh-what?”

“If I let you, would you wanna fuck?” Eddie asked a little louder, making Sam blush.

“Ian, I…”

“Or anything. Literally anything. I just wanna touch you.”

Sam’s eyes scanned Eddie’s face — whether he was looking at the make-up or an answer to an unspoken question, Eddie didn’t know. 

“Ok.”

There weren’t a lot of places to go. Neither wanted to go home. Neither  _ could. _ At some point, Eddie felt like he was going to jump out of his skin and ended up dragging Sam down into the grass some place in Central Park. 

Better than a bathroom, anyway.

The grass was damp, but Sam didn’t say anything as Eddie straddled him, licking into his mouth to taste his rum and coke and the stale aftertaste of a cigarette he had several hours ago. Eddie clawed down Sam’s chest and relished the feeling of his hands running down Eddie’s sides, sighing and moaning into Sam’s mouth. They both were rock hard within a minute while Eddie grinded himself down, trying to get the right angle for their cocks to rub against each other through their pants.

Sam started to unbuckle Eddie’s belt and Eddie leaned his hips back just enough to let him. Eddie felt momentarily embarrassed as the cold air brushed against his dick out in the open, but Sam didn’t say anything about it as he started to pull his own out. He spit into his palm, giving it a few strokes before pulling Eddie down to kiss him again. Eddie let Sam use his much larger hand to wrap around both of them and started fucking into his hand, rubbing their cocks together. 

Eddie wondered if this was what sex would feel like. It  _ almost _ felt like he was fucking into something, and could imagine that he was fucking Sam like this, but he didn’t actually  _ want _ to do it like that, so this was a much better alternative. Especially listening to Sam’s noises and getting to make his own, shamelessly moaning and grunting into each other in the darkness of Central Park. Even with his sweat pooling in uncomfortable places and his heart threatening to thump out of his chest, Eddie just kept chasing the electric feeling between them.

“Fuck,” Sam breathed against Eddie’s lips. “Fuck, Ian.”

“Eddie. Call me Eddie.”

“Eddie,” Sam gasped, not skipping a beat. “Fuck, Eddie.”

“Does it feel good, Sam?” Eddie asked, almost beggingly, pleading to know, secretly pleading to get Sam’s real name.

“So good. I’m gonna come. Fuck, Eddie, I’m gonna come.”

Just hearing his name like this sent a strange euphoria through Eddie, one he’d never felt in his life, spreading through his limbs, his fingers and toes, which all curled up as his own orgasm hit suddenly and spilled cum through Sam’s fingers. Both of their messes stained Sam’s shirt and Eddie felt himself roll over and collapse into the grass beside him, the world around them spinning.

Sam didn’t meet him the next week.

Or the one after that.

The long high Eddie had been experiencing felt like it was crashing again, forcing him to retreat back into his hermit-like hiding that he had become accustomed to his entire adult life. All he wanted to do was lie in bed and sleep, barely getting through any of his midterms. It was just enough to keep him from worrying about failing. He stopped going out to public places besides the grocery store or the pharmacy, let alone any bars.

With the drop of his high came the rise of awareness of what he had put himself through the last few weeks. He hadn’t processed it until one of his showers on a Thursday evening, collapsing to the porcelain floor and crying, feeling the violation of it all. His bad decisions and assault and how dangerous all the drugs he took were. He deserved whatever bad feelings he was experiencing now. That was all so  _ stupid. _

The spiral down started before Eddie even knew Sam would abandon him, just a couple days after Halloween. As he did every year before, Eddie spent his birthday in early November with his mother. It was bleak and rainy and they went to a movie theater before Sonia decided everything was too inappropriate for her tastes. Eddie bought her a nice lunch, took her home, and saw a slasher film by himself in the late afternoon. In the quiet, crowded theater, he could almost pretend he had company he enjoyed and enjoyed him in return.

When Christmas and his finals for the semester were approaching, Eddie finished up a meeting with his advisor to prepare for his last term. He managed to make it this far and would only need three classes and his internship to finish up for his degree. Nothing really made him happy about this. Mostly, he felt tired. The only thing keeping him from dropping out impulsively was his mother, who would strangle him if he quit. He needed to make sure he was working so he could take care of her as her health deteriorated.

He had to make up for all the years she took care of him.

Eddie hadn’t spoken much to anyone besides his mother in the last month or so. When he crawled back into his hole, he avoided other people that might risk him wanting to climb out of it, where it was comfortable and safe. So when he saw Sam on his campus at NYU, sitting with a girl and laughing, he froze.

And he just stood there like a creep; mouth dry, palms sweaty, limbs shaking. He stood there so long that Sam finally noticed, his face dropping when he laid eyes on Eddie. Eddie wished he could turn away, but Sam began to walk towards him and he felt stuck to his spot.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Eddie replied.

“I, uh… I’m sorry I sort of bailed on you. Eddie, right?”

Eddie nodded, trying to will his body not to cry. “Yeah. You remembered.”

“I did,” Sam smiled down at him. “I’m sorry about… everything. I don’t think I’m ready for something like this. Plus, I… met someone.”

“A girl,” Eddie pointed out.

“Yeah,” Sam sighed. However, his smile grew wider and he genuinely looked quite happy. “She’s… she’s pretty amazing. I think I’m in love.”

“Well, I’m… happy for you… Sam. What’s her name?”

“Patty. And… you can call me Stanley.”

Eddie couldn’t help but smile just a little bit. “Stan to Sam?”

“Felt more real to stick with something similar,”  _ Stan _ said. “Sorry. Although, Ian isn’t much of a stretch, either.”

“Fair enough.”

“I’ll catch you around campus?”

“No,” Eddie said honestly. “I’d prefer not.”

Stanley nodded solemnly. “Ok. I’ll… well, I guess goodbye, Eddie.”

Without another word, Eddie simply nodded and walked past him to head home.

Once again, Eddie was alone. Without any friends, without any prospects for going out, he spent his Saturday night doing his laundry before going to bed. He searched through all of his pockets, hoping to find some change for the next load so he wouldn’t have to lose any singles in the coin machine the following week. He lucked out with a couple of quarters and managed to find the crumpled up, overly washed ticket that he had received the night of Halloween. 

Eddie placed it on his night stand and spent his time falling asleep staring at it, wondering if he would ever have the courage to go out so wildly again. Especially to a place to meet someone like that. For his own sake, it was probably for the best that he never saw someone like Frank-N-Furter again. He didn’t have a name or number to tempt him, at least. The ticket expired in the new year, so there probably wouldn’t be a point in keeping it, either. No need to tempt himself into going.

Part of Eddie wanted to find him and ask  _ how. _ How do people like him and Stanley manage to find happiness, find comfort in a relationship with a woman, despite their feelings towards men? Would Eddie be able to find it, too? Live a comfortable life without the stigma of his… filthy thoughts shadowing him? He couldn’t seem to shake them, couldn’t find the willingness to just  _ try _ and be  _ normal. _ Both of them were able to do it, hide in plain sight. Even the lingerie-clad stranger was  _ hiding, _ but he seemed happy enough.

Would Eddie ever get that lucky?

Before drifting off into sleep, he took a look at the comedy club ticket again, turning it over just to stare at the man’s handwriting. Eddie didn’t understand what it meant, but the words the stranger wrote bled into Eddie’s nightmares. For some reason, they were filled with clowns dancing in the sewer with a large banner overhead, scribbled with the stranger’s odd signature from the back of the ticket:

_ Ask for Trashmouth! ;) _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> holler at me on tumblr @ fuckbitchesgetreddie


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